


Day 9 - While The World Stands Still

by TheWeirdDane



Series: Kinktober 2017 [9]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 03:19:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: Garrus is a little surprised to learn that 'asphyxiation' can also be considered sexual, but he's all too happy to oblige his Shepard.





	Day 9 - While The World Stands Still

**Author's Note:**

> Day 9, whee!! I apologize for any errors and mistakes that may occur, forgive me

Day 9: **Asphyxiation** | Lingerie | Frottage

* * *

 At first, Garrus was a little surprised, if not downright _shocked_. But then he thought about her other kinks – knifeplay, masochism, bondage, bloodplay, and he wasn’t so surprised anymore.

“Strangulation?”

She didn’t exactly _blush_ , but her face did take on a slightly pink hue. Trying to distract herself from the conversation at hand, she flipped through the TV-channels, but nothing was fascinating enough that she could pretend she didn’t hear.

Besides, this was something _she_ had initiated by making them make those lists.

“How? With my hands, a belt, or…?”

Just the suggestions made her shiver, and he must have noticed because he chuckled – god, that _sound_ – and pushed her on her back on their big sectional couch, straddling her hips and grabbing her upper arms. His eyes gleamed with mischief and it took the air out of her lungs. She sometimes forgot how predatory he could be, but he always found a way to remind her.

His hands slid from her arms to her collarbones, stroking along the prominent bones and making her shiver again. They moved along to brush his thumbs against the little dip between the bones, and she moaned softly, already turned on.

She really hoped Garrus’ intention was to fulfill her desires, or there would be hell to pay.

“You never answered my question,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, and she whined low in her throat, pressing up against him. Her hands had, at some point she didn’t remember, gone to grasp his strong upper arms.

“Hands are fine,” she whispered, swallowing heavily, “hands are good. Belt also good, but hands preferable, more personal.”

He needed no further prompting – his hands draped around her neck and squeezed. Gently at first, but then harder and harder, until it was hard to breathe and until every breath came out in a sharp huff of air.

“What does it do to you?” he whispered, and though there was excitement in his voice, there was also thin strings of worry, or was it fascination?

She laughed roughly, near breathless.

“My lungs burn,” she whispered, and she could already feel her lungs ache, struggling to get enough oxygen into them, “and I feel dizzy. My hands,” she lifted them to show him, “are trembling. My blood is on fire, it’s spreading through my body like a wildfire.”

“Does it get you wet?” His voice was air-borne sex, all rough and dirty and honeyed warmth.

“Oh, like nobody’s business,” she laughed, her voice harsh and grating, and grasped at his shoulders again, struggling to keep her hands on him, “why don’t you,” his grasp tightened, and she gasped loudly, “c-check it o-out, oh _fuck, Garrus_ \---”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he rumbled and let go of her neck for a fraction of a second, allowing her to greedily breathe in, before he tightened the grip again, pressing against her windpipe with his thumbs. The talons on her neck started digging into her beautiful porcelain-like flesh, and for a second he was worried they might cut her. Then he remembered the, admittedly failed, knifeplay session and how she had _wanted_ it, and the worry was washed away.

“Are your lungs burning yet? Feeling that heavy throbbing between your legs, in your _cunt_?” He practically spat the word at her, yet he purred, and it was the strangest combination. It was rare that Garrus used that word, and oh god, the things it did to her; it made her back arch and her neck crane, head tilted back against the couch, and her hands fisted in the front of his shirt.

She could only nod, her words failing her – and she was pretty sure that he would strangle any that may try to escape her anyway. Her blood was on fire, the heat burning through her veins like a wildfire scorching the wild savannah. It mixed with the adrenaline also coursing through her, and it made for an astonishing combination that made her feel oh, so alive and living on the edge. Her nerve endings were screaming, burning up.

Without really paying attention, her hands moved to his wrists, instinct begging her to try and push back, show _some_ resistance, but it was futile. Garrus truly was stronger than her, and it was evident in the way he pushed firmer down on her windpipe, completely blocking her supply of oxygen, and she choked out a desperate, pathetic sound.

“Let’s see how much this works for you,” he murmured and let go with one hand to sneak it down her body, past her plump breasts and to the flat, trim stomach before snaking below her pants and underwear. Shepard wanted to make a sound, but all that came out was a rough breath and a choked-off grunt. She squirmed on the couch, wanting more, more, more but already being overwhelmed.

Then she felt a cool talon against her sex, and she would have inhaled sharply if it wasn’t for the hand so tightly grasping her neck. Instead she bucked against his hand, giving a strangled sound, and squeezed his wrists tighter.

“Now that you’re… unable to talk, tap my wrists twice if you want to stop. You understand?”

She nodded, and her fingertips stroked his wrists in soothing circles for a few seconds before trying to tug them away. It didn’t have the desired effect, or maybe it did; either way, Garrus squeezed her neck tighter and leaned down so their faces were mere inches apart. She could feel his hot breath ghost against her skin, and it made goosebumps erupt all over her body, made her body jerk the slightest bit.

The talon stroked her folds, pried them apart to find the little pearl nestled safely above her opening. He touched it, and Shepard wanted to cry, wanted to sob; it was so fucking good! Instead she gurgled out an incoherent sound and wriggled on the couch, her back arched and her head tilted backwards.

“You’re so wet, Shepard… this really does do it for you, doesn’t it? You nasty little freak.” The insult was unexpected, but Shepard would lie if she said it didn’t turn her on immensely.

“But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since you also want a knife to your throat. You’re such a fucking _freak_ ,” he snarled, his voice dropping several pitches until it was dark and gravely, and his breath rolled over her face, making her whimper brokenly.

Then he let go of her neck, and she inhaled greedily, coughing and sputtering, and he touched her clit again, making her wail, though she was hoarse from having her windpipe crushed. He rubbed her clit in agonizingly slow circles, grabbing her wrists with one hand and pinning them above her head. She struggled to get free, but all it got her was a talon pushing inside her.

He wasn’t gentle, wasn’t careful, but he did make sure not to cut her in this most intimate area. He pushed his talon all the way inside, wriggling it around before thrusting hard and deep. She moaned with each thrust, and her voice was so rough and abused it sent a chill down his spine, and he became acutely aware of how hard he was getting, his cock leaking pre-cum onto the expensive sofa. Thank god it was leather and easy to clean.

His talon slid in and out of her in slow, but deep and hard thrusts, and he couldn’t help his own groan when he looked down to see where it disappeared into her, slick and glistening with her fluids.

“But you’re _my_ freak,” he growled and kissed her, roughly and all teeth and tongue, and she returned it eagerly. Their breaths mingled, rolled back and forth between them as they made out, and he accidentally bit her tongue, eliciting a little shriek from her. He tasted blood in his mouth, but she didn’t make to stop, so neither did he.

“I’m yours,” she agreed, voice breathy and tight, and bucked her hips to get him deeper, making him utter a stuttering moan. He easily inserted another talon and thrust deep and hard, earning him repeated gasps and moans.

It felt so good, the cool keratin of his talons against her soft, spongy flesh, and each thrust drove her closer to the edge. But it was too soon, it couldn’t end yet!

And Garrus seemed to agree.

He pulled out of her with a soft groan and put his slick talons to her lips, ordering her to “Suck,” and she happily obliged. Her lips parted to let him enter her mouth, and her small and delicate tongue pressed up against the talons, swirling around them as best she could. She did so with many a moan and groan, bobbing her head up and down on the sharp claws, hollowing out her cheeks and looking up at Garrus who watched her with intense, icy blue eyes. For a change, the visor was off, placed neatly on the coffee table so it was always within reach, should anything happen.

The heavy, lust-filled gaze sent a shiver down her spine, and she moaned throatily around the talons, sucking firmly and letting her tongue dance around them, licking off her own fluids and inadvertently letting two streams of drool seep down her chin.

“You’re being careless,” he growled and let go of her hands, making them fall to the couch with a soft thud. She didn’t attempt anything, simply watched him with hooded eyes, her chest rising and sinking rapidly.

He then spread her legs and let her sex be exposed, her pink lips swollen with need and her clit enlarged. She made a breathy sound and closed her eyes, a hand going to stroke some of her hair out of her face, and opened her eyes again to look up at him.

“What are you gonna do about it?” she whispered, a smug smile tugging on her lips. In response, he grabbed her ankles and yanked her to the edge of the couch where he started rubbing himself against her. It made them both moan and groan, and he shivered while goosebumps erupted all over her skin. His slick head slid against her opening easily, mixing their fluids and making her sigh deeply.

“I’m going to fuck and strangle you,” he gnarled, grabbed his cock, and lined it up with her entrance, then pushed inside.

It was done slowly, oh so slowly, and it took all his willpower to not just ram into her and fuck her senseless. Instead he inched his way in, inch after inch being enveloped by her wet warmth, and while torturous, it was well worth it to see her wriggle and squirm, her voice carrying pleas for _more, oh god, more, Garrus, hurry the fuck up_ that he didn’t listen to.

When he finally – _finally_ – bottomed out within her, it was with a low snarl, and he once more wrapped his hands around her neck. Gently at first, just loosely draped around the silky-smooth skin, only to tighten when her hands grabbed his wrists, instinct once more begging her to show resistance. The talons, still slick and warm from her mouth, dug into her skin.

“I will fuck you through the couch, Shepard,” he continued and started moving his narrow hips in a gentle rhythm, not too hard, not too fast, just on the side of agonizingly slow, “fuck you until you don’t know right from wrong, until my name is the only name you remember.”

Then his grasp of her neck tightened again, and he started thrusting in earnest. He pulled slightly out, then pushed slightly in, earning him desperate growls and shameless moans that he still didn’t listen to. His hands once more tightened around her neck, and Shepard choked out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a shriek.

She stuttered out a “G-Good luck,” and Garrus just laughed, albeit a bit breathlessly – it was hard to not just ravish her right then and there, but instead take it slowly, drive her mad with need before giving her what she wanted, what _he_ wanted. She wanted the desperate burning in her lungs, he wanted the sweet sensations of her cunt clamping down and convulsing around him.

He could give her that, and he knew she would also give him what he wanted.

“Oh, I don’t need _luck_ , I’m just that good,” he said, and there was a smug, extremely self-confident smile on his face, something that Shepard rarely saw. It suited him.

He draped his hands around her throat again just as she hooked her legs around his waist. When he applied more pressure directly to her windpipe, it elicited a sharp, choked-off moan, and her cunt clenched around him.

His hands were warm and tight around her neck, and when he applied more pressure, she couldn’t hold back a sound of pleasure. Already her blood was on fire, and she could feel her lungs struggle, fighting to get enough oxygen, and her nerve endings screamed – it was torture, but oh heavens if it wasn’t the sweetest kind. She grabbed his wrists tighter, rounded nails digging into thick hide, and tugged firmly, her body insistent that she showed some sort of resistance.

“I thought you wanted this, Shepard,” he purred but made no sign of stopping, instead squeezed her neck harder until she flat-out couldn’t breathe, and there, _there_ was the painful sting in her lungs, the struggle, the writhing, the desperation, the blood thundering in her ears. Eyes fluttering and fingers starting to fail her, trying to grasp his wrists but not being able to.

“Thought you wanted the pain, the desperation,” and his voice was getting lower, his words harder to understand, as if she was underwater and he above water, or maybe like his mouth was full of wool.

“I do,” she croaked, barely audible, and when he gripped her neck tighter, her vision started to abandon her; it blurred and blackened at the edges at the same time that her legs fell from his narrow waist, falling limply onto the couch. He was still thrusting into her, now harder and faster, setting a rough pace that had her heart thumping aggressively against her ribcage, desperately in need of oxygen.

But he didn’t give it to her.

It was a struggle to stay conscious, but fuck, oh _fuck_ , the way her nerve endings screamed, the way her heart seemed to just _stop_ for a few, painful seconds… it was the best high she had ever encountered.

And then it was there – the almost painful release as she came, her back arching slightly off the bed while the rest of her was completely boneless, lying limply on the couch as Garrus continued thrusting into her, moaning and groaning. Sweat beaded on both their foreheads, and his hands were getting damp, insinuating he was more into this than he let her know. She was only semi-conscious when warmth flooded her body, the tight knot in her stomach coming undone and every muscle in her body spasming and contracting.

She just barely managed to make out some of Garrus’ words – _Spirits, Shepard, fuck_ was a few of them – and fought to stay in the moment, her fingers and toes twitching.

Then there was sudden warmth inside her, and she breathed out through her nose, hard, and her cunt convulsed steadily around him as she came again, squeezing him tightly and making him roar with mindboggling pleasure.

He let go of her throat to allow her to breathe again, and she did so greedily. The first inhale was almost as painful as the strangulation itself and made her cough and sputter.

“Easy, easy,” came his rumbling voice, and it was tight and raspy. She could barely hear his words over a deafening ringing in her ears, heart and blood still pounding loudly.

Garrus moved her to sit up against the back of the couch, and she was helpless but to let him – her body was lead and limp. Hell, he could probably throw her over his shoulders, and she wouldn’t able to stop him. She couldn’t feel her fingers, except for a vague, prickling sensation. It took her a full minute – or what felt like a full minute, anyway – to realize that he was stroking her hair and had wrapped an arm around her body protectively.

It took another minute to realize that he was whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

When the ringing disappeared, she could hear his voice properly again, and it was whispering things like “It’s alright, Shepard,” and “I got you,” and “It’s over now,”. The words – or was it the voice itself? – filled her with calm and peacefulness, and she snuggled in closer against his warm, strong body.

“I’m… sorry, if I went too far.” It had been a while since he stopped muttering sweet nothings. She shook her head, tried to laugh, but her voice was still too hoarse. Unable to use her words, she instead stroked his mandible – hands still numb and trembling – and leaned up to kiss him. It was a soft kiss, her lips pressing gently against his rough mouth plates and letting her tongue wander along the edges.

The world still felt like it was spinning, but at least he was here, with her, to keep her stable, and that was all she could possibly ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed <3


End file.
